Night Terrors
by byakugan.27
Summary: Something's not quite right with Charles after the battle with Shaw and the successful aversion of a third world war. There's something very unsettling about his nightmares that he can't quite put his finger on. Rated T for violence and some course language.
1. Chapter 1

**-One-**

Charles was running, running down long dark halls. He was drenched in sweat, running for his life. At a corner, he risked a glance over his shoulder to see the shadows moving behind him, the walls bending ever so slightly, the air whispering into his mind to run, and something else whispering into his head too… hissing. He stumbled off in the new direction, as fast as his exhausted body could take him. But the whispering, the hissing was getting louder, the darkness was catching up, the floor seemed to warp beneath his now unsteady steps. Dammit, Charles! Get a hold of yourself! But he could not stop running. This thing, chasing him, it knew he could hear it. It was hissing _to_ him. And his senses screamed at him to get away. It was after him, and it was coming. The corridor ahead of him narrowed as the walls clawed in at him, there was nowhere to run. He spun on the spot wildly and the darkness rushed up to claw at his face, his throat and he screamed…

"For God's sake, Charles! Wake up!"

He was writhing and yelling in the grip of someone who was shaking him. There was light coming in through the window, and birds calling each other from the trees outside. He inhaled rapidly in deep shuddering gasps, sweat completely drenching his flannel pyjamas and dripping from his hair. He tore himself away from the man shaking him – Erik, he noted – and made a dash to his en-suite bathroom, collapsing on the cool tile floor and hanging his head over the rim of the toilet. Erik made a face and looked out the window, focussing on the chirping of the birds. After a few minutes he heard the toilet flush and Charles appeared in the doorway. He looked awful, eyes red and puffy with dark, deep circles carved beneath them.

"They're getting worse." His voice was unsteady. "I don't know why, I don't know if they're in my head or in someone else's, but…" he paused to swallow, "someone, or some_thing_ is after me! And it's bad. And I don't know what to do Erik!" He was borderline hysterical.

"Charles, they're just bad dreams. We all get them from time to time. Nothing's coming for you. Nothing in there can hurt you out here okay?"

"I _want _to believe that Erik, I do! But I can't be so sure…" He bit his lip, expression clouded with worry. "I'm _scared_ Erik."

Erik narrowed his eyes. They did not have time for weakness in the team. Not when they were at such a crucial point in the separatist movement. They needed to be strong and healthy for their public image. "Pull yourself together Charles, or you'll be finding yourself on a prolonged holiday from meetings and missions to sort yourself out." With that he turned on his heel and left Charles staring uneasily out of his window.


	2. Chapter 2

**-Two-**

The meeting dragged on, it seemed to take much longer than usual, perhaps because Charles wasn't paying much attention to what was being discussed. Something about dedicated mutant-only areas in cities. He'd stopped listening when he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. He kept thinking he could hear his name being whispered but when he turned his head, there was no one.

He was deeply unsettled after the dream he had woken from this morning, and it seemed as though the hairs on his neck still refused to lie flat hours later.

"What do you think, Charles?"

He turned sharply. "Uhh." He reached out to gently touch the other mind and determine the most recent topic of discussion. As soon as he touched the light that was the other man's mind his head exploded into excited hisses and whispers.

Charlesss! Charlesssss…. Chaaaarlessss!

He broke the mental contact immediately and staggered to his feet, backing away quickly, eyes wide and searching futilely for an enemy.

Erik was on his feet and by his side, pulling him to the side swiftly. "Charles…?" He asked under his breath.

But Charles just looked at him and turned to leave, pulling his arm roughly out of his grip. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew he had to get away from here, and fast. When the pounding of his heart in his ears became too loud and fast to bear, he broke into a run and ran in whatever direction his legs took him. The people and streets blurred in his head as he attempted to shut down his mind and keep running. After a while the only sounds he could hear were his own breathing and heartbeat and he slowed to a stop, panting raggedly. He had found his way to a large park. The sun had almost set and it was practically deserted. No one nearby apparently meant no voices. A feeling of calm washed over him as he realised he was completely alone. Even when he wasn't listening, his gift meant that he was always aware of the minds around him – kind of like how you're always aware that the TV is on because you can hear the whine of the screen if you listen for it.

He wandered for a bit in quiet contemplation as the sun set. With the rising darkness came a growing fatigue. How long had it been since he had had an undisturbed night's sleep? A yawn washed over him which he attempted to stifle, then gave up when he remembered there was no one there to be offended by it.

He knew that if he were following anyone's common sense, he should head back to his mansion and Erik and his giant, comfy king-sized bed with extra-soft sheets. But he truly couldn't face another night of running and whispering, no matter how soft the sheets. He was going to do something truly crazy, and yes, he had no doubt that it was highly likely he would catch a cold and his mother would have yelled at him, but she was gone now, and he was long used to making decisions for himself. He admitted that he probably wasn't in the right frame of mind to be making any decisions but he was more comfortable in this park than he had been anywhere for quite a while he was starting to realise. He would sleep on it and then think it over. He felt safe here. Here he could think. But not now.

He scaled a tree, not as elegantly as he had when he was a child, but fairly well for a man in his late twenties. Finding a nice wide fork in the tree, he curled up safely in the hollow it provided, arms wrapped carefully around one of the larger branches. He smiled at the memory of taking naps like this as a kid, as though being high up could help him escape the endless chatter of the minds sharing his home with him. It had helped then, and it did now. He drifted off to sleep in mere moments.


	3. Chapter 3

**-Three-**

"Charles, wake up."

"Urrrngh…" Seriously? He wasn't ready to get up yet… and why was he so uncomfortable? Something was poking him in the stomach and in the forearm. He opened his eyes and found himself in a tree. He blinked. Yup, still in a tree. The sun was high in the sky. It must have been at least 10am.

"Time to head back Charles. Sorry to wake you, I know you've needed sleep."

Charles looked down and saw, standing at the foot of the tree, a tall dark-haired man. "Erik?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"No, I'm not. I just look like him. Apparently his form is the most comforting for you. For us." The man pulled a face and shrugged.

"Who are you then?" Charles asked, frowning slightly.

The not-Erik beamed up at him uncharacteristically. "I'm you!"

Charles was momentarily unsettled by the image of Erik grinning like that, then processed what had just been said to him. "Okay… how can you be me, if I'm up here?"

"Well you're a telepath, aren't you? You talk to people in their heads all the time. Now you're talking to yourself! Or me. Or I'm talking to you. Or me. Or I'm crazy. Or you are. Or-"

"Right, right I get the message." He cringed slightly. Yes this is apparently what his great mind was coming up with to entertain itself. "So how come you're here, talking to me, now? Why haven't we chatted before? Is this a normal telepath thing?"

"Well how would I know if you don't know? I'm you after all." Erik smiled happily up at him, apparently pleased at how irritatingly cryptic he thought he was being.

"Well yes, but you're apparently pretending to have some kind of different perspective or knowledge about what's going on, or we wouldn't be able to have a conversation." Charles reasoned.

"Yes that's correct. I think I'm embodying some part of your sub conscience. And if you think back to that time you were in Paris, there was some magazine headline about a telepath discovering her inner secrets in a discussion with herself so I would guess this isn't unusual in telepaths."

Charles thought for a moment. "Oh, that's right. I do recall that we were too busy to stop and purchase the magazine and I never got round to going back…"

"Right. So I'm here because of the whispering. Because it's starting to creep me out too."

Charles turned to stare at the Erik-him. "So they're not just in my head?"

The other man huffed out a small laugh. "Well they're not here now that you've distanced yourself from people. So I'd guess not."

"So…?"

"So they're in the others' minds or being projected into your mind."

Charles frowned at the branch of his tree. "How do I deal with them? What do they want?"

Erik-Charles shrugged and looked away out over the park to where the sun was. "You need to get back. The others will be worried about you. Come." He tugged sharply at Charles' arm and he fell with a yell.

"What are you..?!" And he kept falling through the grass, and the earth, and then he was falling from the sky and he was above his house and the pavement rose up to meet him, slowing in its ascent so his feet gently landed on the cement. "What the…? He looked over his shoulder at his other self, who was worryingly translucent in the late morning light of his garden. He smiled and waved. "Time for me to go…"

"Wait! How do I find you again?" But the other Charles was gone, and the real Erik emerged from behind the house at the sound of his call.

"Charles! Where have you been? I- we were worried about you!"

Charles stiffened as he felt the other mind brush against his awareness and with it came the faintest hint of a whisper. Charlesss…

He pulled his mind in tight and close and took a small step away from Erik to keep out of range. "I went for a walk and then found a nice B&B to have a sleep. I just needed to get away, to think." He told him.

"Nice try, but we called all the B&Bs in the area and…" he paused. Charles' eyes widened. He must have been up half the night trying to look for him. He hadn't needed to do that. Upon closer inspection, this Erik looked much less rested than the Erik he'd spoken to in the park that morning… he had bags under his eyes and his mouth was pulled into a thin line. His eyes narrowed as a thought apparently struck him. "But of course, you didn't want to be found." His expression hardened. "Well I'm glad you're all right." He finished coldly. "Mystique wants to talk to you. She's inside". He turned and wandered back to the house.


	4. Chapter 4

**-Four-**

"Charles! What happened yesterday? We were worried sick about you!"

The concern for his safety seemed much less surprising coming from Mystique (or Raven as he still preferred to call her) than it had from Erik. Charles frowned and chewed his lip as he considered how much to tell her. He didn't really know, well, anything about what was going on. A hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up.

"I'm worried about you. You know you can tell me anything, right? Even if it's about your nightmares, or your parents, or us…" She gestured to indicate the mansion where their motley crew of separatist mutants had chosen to make their home. "Or even if you're having… girl problems…" A slight smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. She was constantly teasing him about his methods and forever changing theories regarding the 'getting of girls' as he liked to put it. If only his current issues were ones of such frivolity, he thought wistfully.

"No but seriously, Charles. Talk to me. We might be able to help. Is it the nightmares? Erik says they've been getting worse."

He nodded slowly. After a long pause he said "I don't think they're nightmares."

The blue-skinned girl in front of him frowned. "What do you mean? They're real?" She sounded sceptical.

"I've never had nightmares like this before. I've never really had nightmares full stop. There's not much I need to be afraid of that I can't solve with my mind." He tapped his temple. "And I know we've been through a lot with the whole 'almost-starting-a-world-war' thing, but the thing is," and his face took on a deeply unsettled expression, "something about that isn't right in my head. There are parts of that fight that I don't remember well. Something happened to me on that carrier."

Raven's expression softened. "That day was tough on all of us but especially tough on you. You were absolutely shattered by the end of it. It's okay to not recall everything perfectly when you're in situations like that."

"No, you don't understand. This doesn't happen to me. I don't lose things like I would if I had a normal, disorganised mind, and my mind doesn't work against me for my own safety. It doesn't work the same way for me. I've been thinking and thinking, and I can't remember how war was averted. I don't remember any detail."

"But what is there to remember? We stopped the guys meddling in the politics of the world. There was no reason to start a war between two countries that were both being played by a meddling maniac."

It was common sense. It made perfect sense. But he couldn't remember it. "Anyway, the main focus of these dreams was that I was being chased by something that could find me, and hurt me, in my mind. It whispers into my head, closer and closer as I run." She nodded. He had told her this before. "Only now, it's not just happening in dreams. The whispers, they're chasing me when I'm awake now. It's like they were always there, just out of the corner of my perception. But yesterday in the meeting…" he chewed his lip at the uncomfortable memory. He could still feel the fear lurking in the pit of his stomach. Fear of the unknown. "The man who questioned me, I reached out to touch his mind and they were there, the whispers, they were waiting for me." His eyes were wide and bright as he recalled the moment.

The girl looked concerned now. "Do people's minds not normally whisper to you?"

He shook his head. "This was not his mind. This was _them_, something else, not human and not mutant."

She frowned. "So they were in his head? Just his?"

Charles shook his head again. "I heard them again just now when I spoke to Erik. I wasn't even trying to read him but… I could hear them there. Calling me."

Her eyes shot open. "In Erik's…? What about mine? Do you hear them now?"

"I don't read you, Raven." He said simply. He always kept his promises.

"But you weren't trying to read Erik…"

"You're not like Erik, you keep your thoughts to yourself." It came out a bit sharper than he had intended, and he laughed nervously.

She raised her eyebrow to that. "I guess that's one thing that comes from growing up around a telepath. Maybe I should have a chat with Erik…?" She probed with more than a hint of amusement in her tone.

"No, no its fine!" He exclaimed hastily. "It seems I just have to be more careful than usual around him right now."

She nodded and looked thoughtful. Then "What are you going to do about this?"

Charles let out his breath in a heavy sigh. That was the million dollar question. "I don't know." He admitted. "They feel dangerous. They're messing with my head and I'm not comfortable actively trying to learn more about them but…" He left the rest hanging. He didn't want to think about the daunting prospects he could be faced with. Not yet…

Raven nodded and got up to go, realising that Charles had said all he was going to. "Keep me up to date. I want to help if I can. If this is a threat to you, it could be a threat to all of us. I want to know what you're facing."

He nodded and she headed for the door. She paused in the doorway. "You should talk to Erik about this, too."

He groaned. Erik was not likely to be understanding. He had made a scene at an important meeting and had apparently inadvertently kept him up half the night looking for him…

"_Charles."_ Her voice was steely.

"…All right." He sighed. It was going to be a long day.


	5. Chapter 5

**-Five-**

The thing with Erik was that Charles was never quite sure where he stood with that man. He had a drive that was so strong it was addictive to be around him and yet Charles couldn't help but feel that this drive was somewhat misguided by the trauma of a difficult past.

The separatist push was mostly Erik's doing and he had had a way of convincing everyone that it was the best for both worlds. Charles was still not entirely convinced but they had all been a bit out of sorts after their big fight and Erik had pulled them together, united them over something that mattered to him and now also mattered to them all.

Charles trusted Erik to do the right thing, he thought, but somewhere deep down there was a twinge of uncertainty.

He leafed through the pages of an old book documenting mutant traits and abilities, searching for clues about what this creature he was facing could be. He didn't really think that what he was facing was mutant, but he didn't really know where else to look so here he was. He had been hunting through the dusty basement library since his discussion with Raven that morning and his stomach was beginning to protest audibly.

_Chaaaarlesssss..._

He whipped around as the whisper brushed past his ear. Erik was standing behind him.

"I thought I might find you down here."

Charles coughed to cover his amusement. He was seldom down here, so that translated to 'I searched everywhere else and this is the last place I thought to check.' He stood up straight and placed the book down on the desk. Erik's eyes followed the motion. He raised his eyebrows slightly but said nothing.

"Erik, I've decided to take a back seat for a while. It's like you said. I'm compromised and not going to be a lot of help right now–"

"I never said that." Erik cut in.

_Oh that's right. You only thought it..._ He realised. He brushed it aside. "Right. Well I need to focus on sorting this... whatever it is... out. So… "

Erik said nothing and simply stared past him at the rows of books, deep in thought. Charles' stomach broke the silence loudly and that seemed to snap Erik out of his reverie. He looked blank for a moment then said, "Come grab something to eat. My shout."

Charles did his best to hide his surprise and sudden unease. He had expected Erik to be mad at him, not… buying him lunch. Especially if this morning's interaction was anything to go by. But he _was _famished, and so he found himself not unwillingly trailing Erik into the local café. After ordering himself a large mochaccino and a full cooked breakfast, despite it being almost late enough to count as the evening, the two of them settled into a corner booth. Erik had grabbed a newspaper off one of the tables on the way and leafed through it briefly while they waited. As the pages turned Charles thought he could hear his name in the rustling and he pointedly diverted his attention to the waitress rushing around even though it was long past the three thirty rush. He frowned as a sudden thought struck him. He waited until the waitress hurried in their direction and caught her attention with a wave of his hand. "Excuse me." He said.

"Yes sorry, I'll be with you in a second!"

"Sorry, this is important." He caught her wrist gently, "Why are you in such a rush?" He asked her.

She looked at him in confusion. "Because…" and she turned and looked over her shoulder. Charles followed her gaze. The café was practically empty. "Oh." She said, frowning. "I guess I'm not. How can I help you?"

"Thank you." Charles smiled. "But you already have." He stood up.

"Charles?" Erik asked. He was watching him carefully. "Sit down, your food is almost here."

But Charles walked up to the window overlooking the street. The street wasn't crowded, but the few people that were wandering the street were doing so with incredible purpose and determination. He ran to the door of the café and caught a man rushing past.

"Excuse me, this is very important. Have you got a minute?"

"Sorry, I've gotta get home. It's my daughter's birthday party."

He caught a lady rushing in the opposite direction. "Excuse me, can you help me?"

"Sorry, it's my wedding anniversary. I need to pick up some last minute groceries! You know how it is…"

"Charles, what are you doing?" His hand rested on his shoulder and the whispers came pouring sharply out into his head.

He looked up into Erik's face, his eyes wide with some realisation dancing at the edge of his consciousness that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Come inside, Charles. Come and eat." Erik's steadying hand guided him back into the café and he let himself be led. Whatever this was he wasn't ready to face it yet. Especially not on an empty stomach.


	6. Chapter 6

**-Six-**

The trouble was, he knew something was wrong now. Something was indeed very wrong. His brain was churning thoughts in overtime as he shovelled food into his mouth.

"What are you thinking, Charles?" Erik asked from opposite him. He hadn't touched his Long Black.

Charles lay down his knife and fork and looked straight into Erik's eyes. "Honestly?" he asked.

The man nodded. "Honestly."

Charles took a deep breath and laid his hands flat on the table before him.

"Let's start with facts. Shaw was trying to start a world war by tricking both sides into fighting each other. Correct?"

"Of course. That was only a few weeks ago, Charles."

"Bear with me. _Somehow_ we ended up beating Shaw, and came back here to start up the separation movement. Correct?"

Erik sighed. "Yes, Charles. That's correct."

"Since then, I've been having all sorts of weird experiences. Extreme nightmares, paranoia, hallucinations, which could all be explained by psychological stress or trauma. The thing that can't be explained away is that people aren't doing anything to surprise me anymore. There is nothing you, or Hank, or Raven, or the people on the street have done to make me think twice about_ anything_ since coming back here. Everyone is behaving _exactly_ as I'd expect them to behave. Without exception."

"I took you out for lunch." Erik pointed out.

Charles frowned. This was true. "You found me as soon as I realised I was hungry…"

And lunch with Erik was perhaps something he had wanted, just a tiny bit.

"What are you trying to get at Charles?"

"What happened to Shaw?"

Erik froze, expression blank. "What?"

"Shaw. You know. The man you vowed to kill. You just agreed we beat him. How did we do that?"

Erik frowed. "But you were there. Don't you remember?"

"No. I don't. I want you to spell it out." Charles was watching Erik warily.

"Well, we stopped him! What more do you want to know?!" Erik was getting agitated.

"…Did you kill Shaw?"

Erik stayed silent.

"Erik? Did. You. Kill. Shaw? Did you?"

"Sss."

"Don't tell me to shush! I'm asking you a god damned question!" Charles was on his feet now.

"Charlessssss." Erik's expression had changed. His eyes were dark and predatory. His tongue flicked between his teeth and Charles noted – to his horror – that it was forked. He yelled and leapt away, overturning chairs as he bee-lined for the door only to find it blocked by a sudden influx of customers.

_Really?! It's almost closing – oh._ They weren't customers. They were Erik. Everywhere. And not Erik at the same time. They were all hissing, with their dark eyes and forked tongues, calling his name. Charles jumped back, grabbed a chair and threw it through the glass windows of the shop front. The moment they shattered he was through, sprinting as fast as his legs could take him, as far as they would take him. All he could do was run. He didn't even know what he was running from or if it could even be outrun, but he'd be damned if he was going to go down without trying.


	7. Chapter 7

**-Seven-**

Charles closed his eyes and ran blindly. He was expecting to trip, to stumble, or to crash into something at any moment, but he kept his eyes welded shut nonetheless and sprinted in any direction that was _away._ Away from the hisses and the feeling of cold fingers reaching for him, for his mind.

"Charles! Up here!"

His eyes snapped open and he looked up to see Erik on top of a building to his right. Only, this wasn't Erik. The man grinned widely, and Charles knew it was his mind-Erik – the one he had spoken to in the park earlier… was it really only that morning they had spoken? The smiling Erik reached down a hand for him, which he took without hesitation, and hoisted him up onto the roof of the building.

"Run!" he yelled, pulling Charles along the rooftops by the hand he was still holding on to. And they ran, ran hand-in-hand along the impossibly long rooftop that seemed to warp and bend in a sickeningly unreal manner right before their eyes.

"What's happening to me? This…" he gestured madly around them with his free hand. "None of this can be real! Help me, please – what on earth is going on?"

Not-Erik looked back at him over his shoulder, contemplative. "It's more real than you think, but not in the way you think."

"Well that's bloody cryptic and not helpful in the slightest! I'm asking for help, not more confusion!" Charles spat angrily.

"I know but I can't… it's dangerous to tell you more right now. You're not ready yet." A regretful flash of a grin.

"No!" Charles dug in his heels and ground them both to a halt. The Erik lookalike looked around wildly. The hisses were rapidly closing in.

"What are you doing?! We have to go!"

"Whether or not I'm ready, we don't exactly have a lot of time to mess around here! Tell me exactly what the fuck is going on – right now – or I turn us both around and walk us straight into whatever _they_ are."

The taller him went pale. "You can't be – "

"I'm deadly serious! And you should know it, if you're me at all!" Charles yelled. The hisses were all around them now, and he might have been imagining it, but he thought his vision might be getting darker at the edges ever so slightly. "WHAT IS HAPPENING?!" he bellowed.

There was no smile on not-Erik's face. Charles' vision was definitely getting darker at the edges now, and worryingly rapidly too. The other man looked down slowly, almost regretfully to his hand – their hands – still clasped tightly together. "I think you already know…" he said.

Charles too looked at their joined hands through the tunnel of un-darkened vision left to him. "No, I don't… Erik…"

But he did know. He'd probably always known. He was with Erik. Everything was always all right when he was with Erik. Wasn't it? Why was his vision blurring?

"Erik… why? We're going to be okay, right?" He looked up into a face that was no longer Erik's, but simply his own reflected back at him. He blinked in shock and a single tear fell from each of their eyes.

"No, Charles." His reflection said to him sadly. "I don't believe we will be." And he began to turn away.

"NO!" Charles screamed. "Don't leave me here! Don't leave me here to die! Help me, Erik!"

His reflection turned sharply. "Charles, I'm not Erik. I never have been. You know that." He looked down at their hands again. They were still joined. "You need to let go."

"No! Please! I don't understand! I need you! I still don't know what's going on!" Charles was begging, pleading with every part of his being, for his instinct to be wrong.

But there was only sadness in his mirror image as he confirmed his worst fears.

"But Charles… he betrayed you."

Then their hands were wrenched apart and a single metal coin fell from between them to the ground with a cold, metal clang.


	8. Chapter 8

**-Eight-**

They say that ignorance is bliss.

Charles could corroborate this. Memory and realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks.

The reason he couldn't remember how the fight with Shaw was resolved was that it hadn't ended yet. It was happening now.

Erik had found Shaw, had torn apart the metal-lined Faraday Cage of a room so that Charles could hold Shaw with his mind. He had taken that coin and…

Charles had been so sure he wouldn't. Erik had that helmet on, shielding his mind, but Charles had been sure that their friendship, their bond, had meant something to him. Erik wouldn't kill a man like this, not with Charles inside his head.

It would be cold blood.

It would be wrong.

But perhaps most importantly, it would be bloody painful for the unsuspecting telepath who was fully inserted into Shaw's muscles, nerves and consciousness. He must know that said telepath would feel everything as though it were happening to him, would effectively experience death in an unfamiliar body at the hand of his closest friend.

Even putting sentiment aside and speaking only in terms of practicality, it would be an insanely reckless and dangerous move. Breaking a telepath, especially one as powerful as Charles, could have a hugely devastating effect on anyone within reach of his mind. Of course, Erik would be safe within his helmet, but what of his mutant team? Surely they meant something, even if Charles didn't?

He desperately _needed_ to believe that they were more than just pawns in Erik's larger game plan, that they were too important to be sacrificed on a whim for _the greater good,_ for _revenge._

But Charles had been wrong. This was the greatest miscalculation that he had ever made.


	9. Chapter 9

**-Nine-**

All he could hear was the hissing of the coin being forced through Shaw's mind, echoed in his own.

The darkness from the pain had consumed his vision entirely.

Out of the darkness stepped Erik, his eyes empty and unforgiving.

He wanted to yell, to plead, to run, to do _something._ But he knew that Erik couldn't see him.

Erik stood beside Shaw in the man's final moment, tilted his head to the man's ear and whispered, "_Now_ you understand."

Then Shaw was gone.

And Charles fell into the darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

**-Ten-**

The human mind is an incredible thing. It can be pushed around and take incredible punishment and yet still pull itself together to keep you going, to keep you alive. The human mind has an incredible knack for numbing pain and pushing it to the deepest, darkest recesses, to be dealt with at a later date, with stronger weapons and better tools. These things made Charles very grateful for being fundamentally human. For it was the human part of his mind that protected him in the moment that his telepathy had been broken. It was his human mind that filled him with endorphins and adrenaline to numb the pulses of shock and agony that rippled through him. It was his human mind that packaged up the broken pieces of his mutant power and put them to sleep in a dark and protected corner.

When he left the carrier for the battlefield outside, he entered the battle with a sense of raw purpose that could only be described as human.

Stripped of everything, he had never felt more bulletproof.

It was a foolishly human miscalculation.

**End**

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><p><strong>AN: **_Thank you all so much for reading to the end of this story! Please let me know what you think of Night Terrors by reviewing, and don't be afraid to be honest! I really want to improve my writing so you'd be helping me out heaps!_

_This story is complete for now, but there is a possibility that I write a sequel~ will see how the plot bunnies gather..._

_Once again, thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts and feelings =3_


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